In the Moment
by Sydney47
Summary: The highlights of Sydney's life from Season 1 to Season 2 minus the missing two years. AU for Season 3. SV all the way! :)
1. Taking Time

**A/N**: I had intended this to be all one part, but it was getting long, so I decided to split it up. Please review so I'll know if you want the next part. Enjoy.

_Part 1 - Taking Time _

Blink.

You're alive. Cold and confused, you scream and shriek. Suddenly, you're warm again, and you're in your mother's arms. She quiets you and tells you your name.

You have an identity. You are Sydney.

Six years of innocent life – normal life – go along smoothly. You had many friends and did well in school. You were well taken care of by loving parents. You admired them. What they had together is what you wanted with someone when you grew up. You had everything going for you. You lived in a bubble, and nothing could touch the love and happy carefreeness that surrounded you.

But with one rainy night, everything turned against you. A fatal car accident on a highway next to the ocean changed everything. Your mother was dead. Her body was never found. Neither was the man who caused the accident. There was no one you could blame. So instead of becoming angry, you became somber. You withdrew from your friends and threw yourself into your schoolwork, on some level to gain the attention of your father.

It never worked.

There were no more weekend family picnics, no birthday celebrations, no bedtime stories of princes and princesses in beautiful, mystical lands. There was only the quiet drabness of boring, everyday routine. It was as if all color had left with the passing of your mother. She had been the glue that held the family together, and without her, your world was fragmented.

The cause of this sudden emptiness in your life was mostly due to your father's attitude. He remained distant and distracted, obsessed with work, hardly ever noticing you.

Or so you thought.

What you don't remember is him and his work being the key factor in shaping the rest of your life.

Blink.

You're nineteen now. Ever since you were little, you've felt that your calling in life was to become a teacher just like your mother. So, while dutifully studying for mid-terms, the last thing you would expect is some generic black-suit man to approach you and offer you a job in espionage.

It's decision time.

Part of you thinks it isn't even for real. How are you even suited to be a spy? But another part is intrigued. It wants to know if you could actually do it. You've always liked to challenge yourself, and going for this would be no different. You need a job anyway, so you make the call.

You breeze through the training and the tests. It was like you were meant to do this. Soon after you became a full fledged agent, you met a person whom you would come to despise like no other. Sloane.

He smiled and shook your hand and welcomed you to SD-6. And your fate was sealed.

You worked diligently for seven years alongside your trusted partner, proud of your patriotism with full belief in your cause. But in the midst of those seven years, you met someone you loved even more than your work. He was the person whom you saw yourself growing old with. He was the person who gave your life meaning. And he would be the key to turning your life upside down. And that was because you couldn't lie to him. You couldn't keep up the façade. If you could pledge to spend the rest of your life with this man there could be no deceit allowed.

And so you shot the consequences to hell and took the risk of revealing the truth.

You didn't work for a bank. You had never worked for a bank. This disquieting information seemed like a joke at first, but there was no laughter in your voice, no sarcasm in your eyes. It didn't take long for the truth to sink in.

You weren't the person he thought you were. And he was hurt by what he realized were all of the lies up until then. It took some explaining, but eventually, he came around.

But most unfortunately, that is exactly what killed him.

Blink.

You're exhausted from a long flight and glad to be home. However, you return to the worst nightmare of your life – your beloved dead in the bathtub, blood everywhere.

You scream and shriek, horrified and furious, cursing yourself, God, and the man responsible for this. Danny's blood still warm on your hands, you seek answers that you already know from whom you now regard as the lowliest being on the earth. Your search was fruitless; you knew it would be. It only served to heighten you hatred for Sloane. And that is the driving force in nearly all of your actions from this point forward.

Blink.

It's three months later, and you find yourself on the run. The scum of the earth couldn't stop with the killing of one innocent. Now, he's on to you. You fight and flee desperately, and you are aided by the one person you least expected.

Your father.

You discover that he is part of this secret, dark recess of the world too. Now, after some twenty years of remaining at an uncaring distance, he wants to be the father he was before your mother died. You don't buy it.

You have too much to worry about at the moment than all of a sudden trying to reconcile with your father. Because, you weren't whom you thought you were. You didn't work for the CIA. You had never worked for the CIA.

You knew what you had to do to set things right. It would be double the work and triple the stress, but it had to be done. Because you had even more reason now to see that conniving bastard whom you still had to call your boss go down.

And that's when you met _him_. He seemed warm and friendly enough, but you were not ready to trust anyone just yet, so you remained guarded and distant. It was all still a deadly game for you, and everyone was a player. You had to be prepared to make the right move.

But still, there was something about him that made you want to put your faith in him. There was something in his eyes… Whatever it was, it stopped your heart, and you stopped his watch.

It wasn't easygoing together at first. You had to butt heads and establish the ground rules and your expectations of each other. Initially, you weren't very open to the idea that you wouldn't be the one with all the cards, that he was going to be the one in charge of you. But somehow, deep down, you realized you could trust him.

Blink.

It's a cool, quiet night. Water gently laps at the pier. The reflection of a nearby Ferris wheel glows magnificently in the water. Despite the peace that surrounds you, your head is ringing with raw emotion. Pain, devastation, frustration, loneliness, helplessness bombard you until you feel weak. So you go to the only person left to call.

He stands quietly as you vent and sob. And then he says everything you needed to hear. He is there for you. He lets you know that he will always be there whenever you need him. It was as if he wrapped you in a warm blanket of comfort, fighting your fears away, easing your pain. That was the moment when you realized that he was the only person in the world whom you could trust with all of your heart. He was the only person who would stay faithful to his word. He was the only one who would really understand. You came to understand him too, and something grew between the two of you – something greater than the relationship of a handler and his asset, some stronger, loving bond.

But there were so many things that still stood between you.

Blink.

The memory of your murdered fiancé returns with a painful vengeance. Not only do you meet the man who killed him, but you have to help that man as well. The stinging flash of pain is too much for you. You have to get out of there. You sprint away aimlessly, seeking only to distance yourself from the programmed killer, who ironically enough is also the victim in this case. You scream and wail at the injustice of it all, and curse the fact that the dark underworld of espionage is so interconnected that it could have brought you to that man. When you finally returned to some of your senses, you knew you couldn't hold anything against that man. He had had no knowledge of what he did. As usual, it all went back to Sloane. It was _some_ web he had woven to have his assassins be the victims. Now more than ever, you were driven to bring an end to his crimes against humanity. And so, you let the pain over Danny fade, and you forged ahead.

Blink.

You're a fugitive. Some insane prophet's words from hundreds of years ago are the only reason that you're on the run. Your surroundings are all too familiar. The minute your car hits the water, you know what you have to do to survive. And suddenly you realize that that is exactly what _she_ would have done. Your mother is alive.

Blink.

An old lover returns. You find that you still harbor some feelings for him. A night of passion rekindles the once dead flame. You thought that that night was only the beginning again. But you didn't realize until too late what he had become. He wants you to run away with him, to let all the past go to hell and start anew, fresh, free from the secrets, the lies, the heartache. An offer so tempting, that you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to accept it. Living on a beach in the middle of nowhere, learning how to surf, and not having locks on the doors, not having to constantly worry about danger or death; you could see yourself doing it all, but only in imagination. The reality was that you had too many things keeping you here; finding your mother, relationships with your friends, your duty to your country were all too important to leave behind.

But in the end, you wished that you had left. Because of you, Noah was dead. Another person you loved was stricken down, and this time in actuality by your own hand. It seemed like some force enjoyed ripping your heart apart at every chance it could get. And each time it was through, you heart was that much more tattered, more darkened. But this time, Vaughn was there for you. He picked up the pieces for you and helped you put them back together. He was your heart's source of rejuvenating light. Would it always be this way? You fervently hoped so.

Blink.

It had always been people keeping you and Vaughn from each other – terrorists, old boyfriends – but now there was something even more tangible.

A door. And he was on the wrong side.

You could only watch as the water crushed his form to the window on the door that had closed too soon. You couldn't just let him die. You had to do something. You pounded on the door with the fire extinguisher with all of your might, even when he motioned for you to save yourself. You didn't listen. You couldn't leave him. Suddenly he was gone from your view; you couldn't help him. You were captured.

Blink.

You taste blood in your mouth when you wake and there is a resonating ache in your head. Within minutes, you are greeted by the sight of someone whom you haven't seen in almost thirty years. _The Man_. Your mother.

It's a short, hateful conversation until she shoots you. From that range, it feels like a ton of bricks was dropped onto your shoulder. But even that pales to the intensity of your anger that you could have ever loved this woman, this traitor.

It was easier than you would have thought to escape. Almost too easy… You didn't have the time to ponder that idea any longer. You had to get back. You had to find Vaughn.

Not even presumable death could keep you apart. You were in France (really) when you found him. Half naked with his face battered, he couldn't have been a more beautiful sight. You saved his life. It was as simple as that. No more words were needed. Only wide, bright smiles as you parted until the next time.

Blink.

It's just after the goodbye to the closest mother figure you had since you were a child when you hear the news. Your mother wanted to cooperate. She turned herself in.

And just like that, she was thrusted back into your life. You tried to establish boundaries to keep things from getting any more personal, but that effort was fruitless. What Irina Derevko wants, she gets, and she wanted to get close to her daughter. There was no way you could stop her from stealing a part of your heart back; she was your mother, after all.

You were confident that you could take care of yourself when it came to your mother. It was your father that you had to worry about. Especially when you found out what he did to you.

The puzzles, the exercises, the tests, all of the training is what he programmed you with and what he made you forget. Everything he did was his own way of protecting you, of making sure you could take care of yourself. But that is not at all what you feel about what he did for you.

It was a rainy night when you confronted him, voice laced with rapprochement, the pain of betrayal pouring from your eyes. Afterward, you tried to walk it off, and your feet led you to your trusted savior again. Drenched with rain, face streaked with tears, you melted into his inviting arms, and he just held you, no questions asked. The air was too thick with emotion for words at that moment, and he respected that. When you finally pulled back to look at him, he dried your face with a gentle sweep of his thumb and drove you home.

It was his simple actions and his simply being there that saved you that night. Soon the tables were turned, and it was up to you to save him again.

Discovering he was infected with a deadly virus, you turned to its maker. Your mother assured you there was a cure, but getting it was another matter. Your time with Vaughn at the hospital was too brief for your liking. He reached for your hand, his only source of comfort in his time of pain. But suddenly, alarms were blaring and doctors were rushing him into surgery. And that's when you met the one person you never expected to exist in this world – Vaughn's girlfriend.

There was someone else in the place of where you not-so-secretly wanted to be. You didn't want explanations because you didn't think you could take them. There was something between you and him that you hadn't felt with anyone else before, and there was nothing like lies and secrecy to affect the bond. Everything was out in the open, everything but your confession of love for each other. You didn't want to say it because there was no way you could act on it, not now. But, you're still hurt that he had seemed to disregard that bond. However, he must have known that there was something important between the two of you or he wouldn't have even tried to explain himself.

He had a girlfriend. You left it at that. You go for a drive to clear your head. Soon, you somehow find yourself back at the pier, the place where he helped you discover he was your only ally. You look up at the night sky, the moon and the stars illuminating the water below, and you come to an understanding. If your relationship with Vaughn had to remain platonic for now, then so be it. If you were meant to be together, your time would come in the end. All it would take is a little patience. You breathe deep and feel rejuvenated by this revelation. Your time would come.

_TBC_  



	2. Familial Ties

**A/N**: Here's Season 2 with the end of The Telling modified. I'm planning a new Season three, so be on the look-out for new chapters. Enjoy._  
_

_Familial Ties_

Blink.

You're suddenly thrown head first into the effects of the dysfunctionality of your family. You, your father, and your mother all breathing the same air head out on a mission of which you really have no idea what will come as a result. Can your "family" work together without killing each other? Will it even be possible to complete the simplest of tasks together, let alone trekking into unfriendly territory to locate nuclear weapons? You had no idea what to expect other than this trip having its fair share of crazy turns and bumps along the way. A major one was seeing your mother at the side of Cuvee. You couldn't quite describe the feeling you had when it appeared that she had been deceiving you all along. It was something along the lines of the usual emotions in cases like this: betrayal, anger, confusion; but all to a higher degree.

But in the end, you found that it was all a ruse. She was actually playing Cuvee, not you. You were more than relieved that you had been wrong, even if it added another dimension to your relationship with her; first it was loving, then hating, then cautiously trusting, then betraying, and now back to liking. It was quite a rollercoaster ride of feeling.

Despite how hazardous this road that you traveled was, you were successful. You had all made it through, alive and safe. And when you least expected it, Vaughn was there to aid you. He was transported down to you like an angel from heaven, but in the shape of a military helicopter. When you saw him, you could only smile at the thought that he had come for you once again.

Tired and relieved, you sank into your seat next to Vaughn. You couldn't help but turn to him with a small grin, which he returned with a knowing smile, aware of what you were thinking – that you couldn't be happier that he was here with you now. Soon, you laid your head on his shoulder, not caring what your parents would think, and drifted to sleep.

You wouldn't say that your mother had now gained your full trust back – that was only something you permitted to a very select few of people – but it was close. There were now even more questions than before. It appeared that she really had turned to the side of good, but why? What made her want to return to your life so suddenly? Could her actions now really make you forgive her for abandoning you before? She knew that you were in a quandary and said so. And she finally provided you with some answers. She really cared about you. What she did to you in Taipei was the only way she could help you.

The next day arrives with even more answers; an explanation for her seemingly reprehensible actions. Her duty to her country had come before her family, and she now knew that that had been wrong. The love for you that you could see in her eyes was too powerful. You could only smile through your tears before turning away from her pleading gaze – a plead for forgiveness. She called your name beseechingly, the name she herself had given you, the name for an identity that you had tried to shape for yourself; but you found that you needed your mother still. You turned back and wrapped her in a tight hug, something you had missed for over twenty years, your tears and hers fell on each other's shoulders. After everything she had put you through, you still loved her. It was mother and daughter, reunited again, with a whole shit load of past enmity that was now buried under a new breed of understanding, trust, and love.

Blink.

You find yourself with Vaughn in the warehouse you both love and hate so much; love because it's the place where you can talk freely with the person most dear to you, hate because it still resembles the fact that you can't be out in the open with this man. Despite the setting being its usual self, an unusual conversation takes place between its walls. A fight. You felt betrayed by the last person on earth whom you would suspect. He argued that he was only acting in your best interest, but you still felt wronged, insulted that he was treating you like a child. You didn't need him to make things easier for you. It was your life; you could handle it yourself, complex issues and all.

Blink.

You reconcile with him without the actual words. You've always seemed to be on the same wavelength with him, able to express and understand feelings without verbal explanations. This time was no different. However, he did surprise you with what would be a normal question had you not been co-workers for the CIA.

He simply asked you to dinner. And all you could do was look at him through touched but disbelieving eyes and stutter. Your rational side tried to take over, but it was pointless. You were too emotionally involved with him to decline an offer like this. So, he kept persisting, and you happily relented. It was going to be the night of your dreams.

Or so you thought.

It was a night full of intimate conversation over delicious food and wine. Everything was going smoothly until a key was presented to you; a key that would open a door to a whole new dimension in your relationship with Vaughn. You were both ready to take that step, but you had to think about this carefully. You were both open to breaking protocol; you had done it many times before, but this was even a step further than that. But you didn't care. This was your time, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way. So, you went for it. You said yes.

And then all hell broke loose.

You fled and you fought, and together you made it out alive. But at what cost? The mission objective had to change now, and you felt so foolish for thinking that you could risk everything and still come out ahead. You had gambled at the high stakes table and lost big. But there was still one more hand left to play.

You flung your last card out onto the table with the fortifying knowledge that it was your ace of spades. Always be prepared.

Blink.

Finally after over two years of waiting, your moment has come. You have the chance to destroy the Alliance and set yourself free from the dark world of a double life in which you were imprisoned.

It's over so quickly that you can't quite believe it. But as you look around at the remains of the battleground, you realize that you have done it. SD-6 is gone. For now, you let the fact that Sloane has escaped remain water under the bridge. You were happy enough at the moment that the entity that was keeping you from what you truly wanted was destroyed. And, you didn't hesitate to rejoice in your newfound freedom.

The only thing that was now keeping you from Vaughn was the distance between the two of you in the room. When your eyes met, it was as if someone had flipped a switch, and you were drawn together faster than you could blink. You closed your eyes as your lips melded together with his, not needing to see him, only to feel him for the first time. There was no crescendo to this kiss; it started and ended (which you hoped it never would) with the same fiery passion, the same loving harshness. This kiss right here is where you have wanted to be for too long, lips locked, bodies pressed together, and you wanted to savor it for as long as possible. But, time had no meaning now, so you weren't even sure how long you stayed as you were, and you didn't care.

Blink.

It's the normal domestic scene that you've craved for. You move busily around the kitchen, and you can't help but smile. He's watching you.

You give him a taste of the sauce that you're making, and then you try to check on the food in the oven, but he stops you, unable to wait any longer to kiss you. And kiss you he does, until you are good and thoroughly intoxicated by him. You remind him about dinner, but you're more than happy to agree with him to "reheat." You're suddenly hungry for something else, and you can tell that he is too. It's the way his eyes shine, the way he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, the way he worships your body as you make love that tell you that everything you had had to go through to get here was worth the wait.

You wake next to him in the morning with one thought on your mind – you want it to be like this forever. You study him in his light morning doze, and the smile on his face makes you want to think that he is dreaming of you. He wakes, and with the position he is in now – lying next to you after a night of loving passion – he wonders why you still don't call him by his given name. Your answer is simple, and it avoids the question. But your reason is even simpler than your response. He is Vaughn to you. End of story.

But soon your pillow talk takes you to a different, bigger issue. You've grown tired of your now former life, and you want to make a complete break from it. You're going to quit the CIA.

At least, you intended to.

But there was still such a mess to clean up, so many people to save, so much evil to battle in the world.

You really _were_ meant to do this. It wasn't something that you could escape. So, you decided to tough it out, looking at it from the perspective that it wasn't something that you were forced to do, but rather that you made the choice to keep doing it. And besides, it wouldn't be completely like it was before. You had Vaughn now without any restraint between the two of you. He would be there for you in the field like he was before, but now he would also be there for the time after, when you had some relaxing down time to recuperate.

Blink.

What you had hoped would never happen again does. Your mother had been deceiving you all along, and she abandoned you once again. All those months of building some semblance of a relationship with her again was all for naught. You were as naive when it came to her as you said you wouldn't be, and she pounced on the opportunity. She betrayed you.

And with the event of your mother placing herself on the opposite side as you once again, another shocking turn of events comes into play. Emily is alive. The best mother figure in your adult life didn't die from cancer, and her husband didn't euthanize her. She had deceived you in the same fashion your real mother had. But she atoned for her deception in less time. She loved her husband, but she knew that he had to pay for his crimes. She wanted to help you make that happen, but her love for him was what flawed the plan. She helped him escape, and that was what cost her her life.

You cried for her, feeling no remorse at the moment for having shot your real mother. You had just gotten Emily back, and now she was gone again. Struck down by an off-target shot from your own side. Too many people had been taken by the hazards of your job. God, how you wanted out of this life. But even then, you couldn't leave. Sloane still had to pay.

You were quiet when you finally reached home with Vaughn curled up next to you. It was comforting having him with you, but there was still such an ache in your heart over the latest tragedy. He understood your need for no words at the moment, and he wrapped you in his arms. But suddenly, a strange noise drew your attention away from the comfort he was providing. It conveyed a mystifying message, and one that you have heard before from only one person. Truth takes time. It was your mother, her mysteriousness at its finest. It was clear that whatever she was up to would only be revealed when she herself saw fit. Your only job was to wait for that time.

Blink.

Will is taken into custody. He is the suspected mole. You can't believe it – you won't. And so you set out to prove that he's innocent. Along the way, you run into your mother again. She stuns you, both emotionally and physically. She offers to help you, for a price that she'll announce later. When she does, you can't believe what she wants. It must be another one of her tricks. But you have no choice but to trust her on this. It's the only way to keep your friend alive.

So you go to the warehouse she tells you about. And… you find nothing. You conclude that she had fooled you again, and you were determined that it was going to be the last time. So when she called you out of the blue to offer you an explanation and more of her "help," you were reluctant to buy it. But you were desperate for any kind of possible lead that you could get. You had to go for it.

Her confirmed truthfulness at this time is another shock to you. You really have no understanding of what your mother is trying to do. Her jumping from one side to another blurs her motives. And with each second that passes, the picture of what she is aiming for becomes cloudier to you. You've spent so much time and energy in trying to work your way through the murkiness and only one piece of information has been presented to you – your mother is indecipherable.

And so, with the information that your mother provided for you, you clear your friend's name. But that still leaves the disturbing question: just who is the mole?

Blink.

Your father is in trouble. It's up to you to save him, but you've also got to worry about apprehending Sloane. You engage him and his goons in a shootout, and out of nowhere comes your mother to your aid. She urges you to get Sloane as he tries to escape, but you can't just let your mother go either. So, you let Vaughn take care of Sloane, and you charge after her.

You catch her just as she is about to jump off the roof of the building. You threaten her with your gun, but that does nothing to faze her. She calmly tells you what her study of Rambaldi has revealed – your destiny. Then suddenly, everything is in freeze-frame, and then the reel of your vision starts in slow motion. She jumped. She escaped.

You return home mostly unsuccessful (but you did rescue your father), and you can't shake the low feeling, not by yourself. But Vaughn is able to wipe the slate clean for you and takes your mind on to happier thoughts. Like a long weekend vacation with him in Santa Barbra. You smile as you kiss him, more thankful than ever that he is with you to bring some joy to your life. He promises to come by your house again after he is finished at work, and you can only think that even that amount of time is too long.

You head inside more than ready to relax, happy to see (whom you think is) your friend seated comfortably on the couch. You take out your favorite coffee ice cream, glad that your friend hates it, because after the day that you've had, you are seriously considering eating the entire thing.

But that's when you check your messages.

Will's voice whispers harshly, urgently in your ear. You don't want to believe what you're hearing, but now that you think about it, there have been clues that things have been off with Francie lately.

With one simple test, you know that the woman sitting next to you is not Francie. Your heart races as you excuse yourself. You don't want to think about the fact that Francie is either locked up somewhere or already dead, and you don't have much time to, anyway. Because her double realizes her mistake.

Francie doesn't like coffee ice cream.

Despite your newfound enemy's warning, you raise your gun, and the fight of your life begins. She manages to corner you into the bathroom, and that's when you have your worst nightmare re-realized. Will lying in the tub, covered with blood. Enraged even further, you fight your way out, taking the confrontation to nearly every room in the apartment, trashing and destroying everything in your wake. After an exhausting few minutes of vicious combat, you're finally within reach of the gun. You bait her with a fake injury, and she bites. You grab the gun and kill her.

You feel weakness overtaking you. You feel dizzy and have the urge to vomit, but you fight the feeling back. You have to get help. You have to call Vaughn.

You stand up slowly and stumble the way to your phone. You collapse onto the couch, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose as you wait desperately for him to answer. After the longest three and a half rings of your life, he picks up. It only takes a few breathless sentences for him to get the idea. The last thing you hear is him assuring you that help is on the way when you pass out.

_TBC_


	3. Moving In, Moving On

**A/N**: Please remember to review! Enjoy.

_Part 3 – Moving In, Moving On_

Blink.

It hurts to open your eyes, so you let them flutter closed again. But suddenly, you feel someone take your hand and squeeze gently. You know who it is, and you want to see him, so you struggle to open your eyes again. His cool hand gently brushes hair from your forehead and he whispers softly in your ear to take your time. You're too tired to continue trying to squint against the too bright lights, so you take his advice and drift back to sleep.

Blink.

You wake again with less pain in your head this time. You turn to where you remember Vaughn's touch coming from, and you see him dozing in his chair. You smile slightly and then reach out for his hand. He rouses suddenly, acting as if he hadn't meant to fall asleep as you stroke his hand. He looks at you, and you apologize for waking him. He doesn't care; he's just glad that you're awake.

He's reluctant to leave you, but he knows that he should get a nurse to come check on you, so he excuses himself. You settle back on the pillows and breathe out deeply. You made it out alive again. But what about your friends? You admit to yourself that Francie is most likely dead, but you don't want to really think about that, so you move on to other questions. Where was Will? Did he make it out okay? You sit up suddenly, wanting answers, but pain and dizziness flash through your head, so you lie back down.

Vaughn returns with a nurse and holds your hand throughout her examination of you. She informs you of your injuries – nothing is broken, but you have quite a few cuts and abrasions, and you have a concussion. She says that the doctors want to keep you under observation for a few days. She leaves, and then you immediately ask Vaughn about Will. He says that he made it out of surgery and you'll have to wait for further information.

You find out that he will be alright. With some intensive physical therapy, he'll be as good as new with time. You're restless during your stay at the hospital. You have so many things you want to be doing right now other than driving the nurses crazy; being in Santa Barbra with Vaughn the most important one. He stays with you for hours each day, and he promises you that he'll find a way to reschedule the trip.

When you're discharged, Vaughn takes you to his place, since there's not much left of your home to return to. He informs you that you've been given a week off to recover, and you immediately think that you'll be able to get to Santa Barbra sooner than you thought. But, you realize that having headaches and feeling dizzy throughout the trip would make for a lousy vacation, so it will have to remain postponed.

Despite your physical injuries, the week you spend with Vaughn is like heaven, one that you're reluctant to leave, but you know that you should start looking for another place of your own. But when he sees you with the apartment listings, his immediacy in offering a different solution makes you think that he has been thinking of asking you this for a lot longer than this week. He wants you to live with him.

You lower the paper and look up at him endearingly, but a little shocked. Were you really ready for this? In a way, you were; after two and a half years of slowly laying the foundation of your relationship, little brick by little brick, it was time to set up home. His next three words seal the deal.

He loves you.

It's something that you have known in your heart, but to actually hear it has added more power behind the feeling. The look in his eyes drives the point home. He really _has_ been considering this for quite some time, and he waited until the perfect time to ask you, when there was no chance of you saying no. You always did think that he was a genius.

You accept and return the sentiment of love, and his grin brightens the room. You throw down the paper, wrap your arms around him, and kiss him until you are drugged with passion. It's going to be another night of fun for the two of you…

Blink.

You awaken next to him again, this time in _his_ bed, and you see him looking at you with that same smile on his face. You love that you'll be waking up this way every day from now on. You wish that you could just lie here with him until night falls again, but there are so many things to be done.

He takes you to your former home and helps you salvage what you can from the mess. Clothes, books, pictures, picture frames are all transported back to his apartment to be arranged later, making his home yours.

Tired of being cooped up in the apartment on your last day of recovery time, you and Vaughn take Donovan on a walk around his neighborhood, and he introduces you to some people that you see about. You smile and shake hands with them, happy to meet people who have insight to the side of Vaughn that you are still learning about. So when you run into old Mrs. Pearson, Vaughn's landlady, you giggle as she pats his cheek and commends him on finally having a serious relationship with a woman; she was afraid that he would become an old, cranky bachelor. You blush when she compliments your beauty and proclaims that you are definitely a keeper. She then goes about her own business, leaving you and Vaughn grinning at each other. But when you turn to go home, a serious, but heartwarming thought pops into your head.

Your time has really come at last. You have the freedom to learn everything about Vaughn that you've wanted to know, even the littlest, seemingly trivial details that will only come from living together; things like how he likes his eggs, what books he is currently interested in (and whether he reads at all for pleasure), what other sports teams he is a fan of. It was all something you were really looking forward to, and you had the ability to take your time or speed things up as you wanted. But, the way in which you were so deeply in tune with this man was the result of taking things slow. (Maybe the existence of the Alliance had really been a blessing in disguise.) You didn't want to rush everything now just for the sake of it. You both would know when the time was right to take the next step. Together you would decide, and together you would stay.

Blink.

You're back at work, having returned to the unceasing grind of your life. There's such a long list of things you want to accomplish that you almost don't know where to begin. Unearthing a way to get back on your mother's trail, finding out what else she knew about this "prophecy," locating Sloane and the device that he built – these were only a few. But you wanted one question answered now. So, you went to the only resource at your current disposal.

Sark.

You marched down to his cell, the familiarity of it sending chills up your spine. But you had to have your poker face on for this round in the game, so you let the thoughts of your mother slip away for now.

The immediacy of your question doesn't seem to faze Sark. He merely stands up from his metal cot and faces you with his arms crossed, a smirk not quite daring to appear on his face, but you can see the beginnings of it in his eyes. When he answers your question with the nonchalance as if he had been asked how the weather was, you can barely contain the compulsion to enter his cell and throttle him.

Francie was dead.

In your head, you had known that this was true ever since you discovered that Francie's double was just who she was. But your heart tore at you, pleading with you to find a way to make it untrue. That's why you stormed in here and confronted her possible murderer. But with his dreaded response, your heart could fool itself no longer. You bit back tears that threatened to fall; you wouldn't cry in front of this snake, you wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing you in your weakness. So you left him abruptly, and you felt ready to break down completely all over again. But you had to deliver the tragic news to someone else, so you try to remain strong.

You take a deep breath as you enter Medical Services, knowing that this will be just as hard, if not harder for Will as it is for you. You see him sitting slightly elevated in the bed reading a magazine. You greet him with a small smile, which he returns, and you ask how he is doing. He is happy to report that he'll be able to leave in a few days, and he'll be staying with his sister again. You nod, then take his hand, looking down at it in yours, wanting to get what you have to say over with.

When you tell him, he nods slightly and turns his head away. It was what he had figured as soon as he found the Provacillium in the bathroom. He asks you what happened to Francie's double, and you can see that his fears are alleviated when you tell him that you killed her. He thanks you with a simple, "Good," and a squeeze of your hand. He turns his head away again, and then looks back at you sadly. There are tears in his eyes as he opens up. He wasn't sure how long, or even if he ever was, with the real Francie. He had been falling in love, and it was tearing him up inside that Allison had been the recipient of that sentiment. He sighs, and some tears fall. You kiss him gently on the cheek and swear to him that the other people responsible for Francie's death will pay. You will be sure of it.

You sigh as you go back to the main office. The death toll is so high against you now, and you wonder if it will ever stop growing. You're determined to get yourself and the people you love away from this deathly life as soon as possible. But justice needs to be served, and your catalogue of questions answered. There's never any rest for the weary.

_TBC_  



	4. Why Don't We Go Somewhere Only We Know

**A/N**: I borrowed the chapter title from Keane. Enjoy the fluff while it's here, because I'm planning for some angst. Enjoy, and please review.

_Part 4 – Why Don't We Go Somewhere Only We Know_

Blink.

After a week of dead ends when it came to finding your mother and Sloane, you were desperately in need of that dreamy weekend in Santa Barbara. But there was something else to attend to – Francie's funeral.

The CIA decided that it would be best if Francie's death was explained in the same way Danny's was. That way the confidentiality of your job could be maintained to those who would be affected by the death. You protested heavily, despising the thought of having to continue to lie to the people not directly involved in your insane world, but in the end, the higher-up won. When it became apparent that double would have to be the body in Francie's casket, you nearly exploded with anger. But there was no other option to take.

So, you greet the solemn and still-shocked Mr. and Mrs. Calfo with a quick, tearful hug, and then hurry to your seat, afraid that your barely contained infuriation over this deception of all deceptions would spill out into the open.

More tears come when you listen to the eulogy, but they are mostly tears of anger. Allowing Francie's murderer to be the recipient of this final, loving goodbye while your real friend is God-knows-where makes your blood boil. You want to scream. This is just… _wrong_. You know that your allowing this to even take place dishonors Francie's memory more with each second. But, the truth is far too complicated, far too dangerous for the likes of the people around you. The clash between the innocent and the dark, secret worlds would create too great a mess to clean up. So, the façade is back up in full force. But with you now is someone who is allowed to see past all of the lies; he is a part of both your worlds now, and you don't know what you would do without him.

He sits beside you and squeezes your hand reassuringly every time he can feel you tense up. He is literally the only thing keeping you from abruptly leaving this disgrace of a memorial.

You're thankful, but drained when it's over, and you ask Vaughn to make a stop before you head home. You open the glass door and step inside, not sure what you were expecting to feel when you came here, but you felt that you needed be here now.

The restaurant wasn't too busy right now – it usually didn't reach its peak until the evening – but you were mildly surprised to see one person who was here too. Although, you probably should have figured that he would also want to be here right now, especially since he, too, knew the truth about Francie.

Will was seated in his wheelchair with his sister standing next to him, their backs turned to you. You approached them and laid a hand on Will's shoulder, and Amy helped him turn around to face you. Neither of you knew what to say at the moment, so you just leaned down to give him a hug, tears not unwelcome springing to your eyes.

This place had been Francie's dream, one that she had worked so hard to achieve. It was where you spent what time you had with her being as careless and free as you could, discussing only lighthearted topics, catching up on your girl-talk. But really, it had all been a lie. She never knew what you actually did with your life; you never got to explain everything to her, never got to know if she would ever forgive you for deceiving her, never got to introduce her to "Michael." But, being here now was your apology to her – a small start, but a start at least.

You run your hand over the cool counter at the bar, and in your mind you ask her to forgive you, and you promise her that you won't let her murderers go unpunished.

Blink.

You jump on the newest lead on Sloane. You father unearthed it; while he was drugged and in Sloane's custody, he had heard bits and pieces of Sloane's conversations with his men. What he could and couldn't remember had been eating at him for the past week, but he finally remembered hearing about a location, another safehouse, the place they would be going when Il Dire had functioned and completed its task. Your father assumed that that's where Sloane had gone with the device when the CIA raided the building.

So, you and Vaughn were on the next plane to the remotely located safehouse. What you found there… well, you couldn't believe what you found there. The place was empty, all except for the Rambaldi device. This didn't make any sense. Sloane had worked for over thirty years to build this device; he wouldn't just suddenly abandon it. But it appears that that is exactly what he had done.

You examine the device for any clue as to why Sloane had not taken it, wherever he had gone now. The thing is massive – it nearly fills the entire room in which it is placed – intricately designed, and complexly put together. On one side near the bottom is where you find your only clue.

You tear the blank, scrap of parchment that appears to have been left when a longer page was torn from the mouth of what looks like a printing device. It's not much help, but it offers an explanation as for why Sloane left his magnum opus behind. The device performed its function, and was now useless. The scrap left behind indicates that the machine had been used to deliver a printed message. What it could be, you had no idea, and now you've once again reached the end to the leads on Sloane. You crumple the piece of parchment in a frustrated fist. Sloane had escaped again.

Blink.

It had been a few weeks of dead ends at the CIA before you and Vaughn realize that this time would be a perfect opportunity to get away for a weekend. So you go on your dream vacation to Santa Barbara; and what a dream it was.

It was a warm night, so you drove with the windows down, your hair tickling your face as it was blown around, you loving every minute of it, feeling free and excited as you anticipated a weekend full of pure, uninterrupted fun. Vaughn laughed happily, seeing you in such carefree state, and your grin only widened in return. It was late when you arrived at the Biltmore, so you both decided that it would be best if you went to bed. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean that you two got a lot of sleep…

The hotel itself was beautiful – the Spanish style architecture caught your eye, and the wonderfully decorated rooms and patios with sunlight streaking in all the right places gave the place a heavenly aura. You could probably make a full weekend without leaving the hotel, but you had plans to do everything you said you wanted to do while you were there and more. And so, you relaxed on the sunny beach, bought ice cream cones from a nearby vendor and took a walk along the sand, had fabulous tacos at La Superica Taqueria, visited a museum of art, and of course went to the zoo that you could not stop talking about.

You bought a disposable camera, and Vaughn snapped a picture of you in front of your giraffe with a crooked neck. He lowered the camera, smiling, with a look in his eyes that you couldn't place. He just said that he loved you, but you could tell that he was holding something back; there was something more in his eyes than love. But you let it slip by for now, not wanting even the tiniest argument to ruin the day.

It wasn't until you were seated together at a candlelit dinner at the hotel's La Marina that Vaughn admitted that he had been holding back some of his feelings earlier that day. _You remember that he took a deep breath before placing his hand over yours, and still to this day can you recollect every word said…_

"Sydney, I've loved living with you the past few weeks…"

"I have too," you answered immediately.

He squeezed your hand gently in response. "Please, let me finish." He looked down briefly before he met your eyes again and continued. "And this weekend has been incredible, but I'm realizing now that it isn't enough. I love you, Syd… And I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"

He looked at you expectantly, witnessing the blush rise on your cheeks as excited surprise registered on your features. You maneuvered your hand in his so you could squeeze it. "I… Wow, I don't know what to say other than yes. Yes!"

Completely oblivious and uncaring about the other people in the restaurant, you stood up and he followed your lead, and you launched yourself into his arms, a few happy tears being shed free with the relief of knowing for certain that you would never be alone in the world again.

_TBC_  



	5. I've Lost My Keys

_Part 5 - I've Lost My Keys_

Blink. 

You were sad to leave the taste of true freedom behind in Santa Barbara, but you were definitely ready to move on to your future with Vaughn; of course, the present had to get in the way again.

Another day at work brings another opponent to the forefront. A new faction called the Covenant has entered the playing field through attempted kidnapping of two CIA senior officers stationed in Berlin. Fortunately, the attempt was unsuccessful, but there is suspicion that another attempt will be made, most likely on different targets. So, your job is to find out what you can about this Covenant group, who the leaders are, what they expect to get out of the kidnapping, what their goals are, anything.

So, it's a long day of research, contacting informants, and paperwork until you really allow yourself to take a breath and discover that you've been at this too long for one day.

Vaughn approaches you just as you push back your chair, deciding that enough's enough for tonight. You quickly stand up to greet him with a hug, not caring what other agents in the office would think since you've immunized yourself to the Ops Center gossip. You figure that you're old news anyway; although, you haven't made your engagement to Vaughn public knowledge yet. In fact, you haven't felt ready to tell anyone – it's just a bit of happiness that you want to keep for yourself a while longer.

_Even now, you remember that the time before you announced your marriage to others, both him and you addressing each other more quietly for no reason other than subconsciously feeling more intimate with each other, wanting to keep anyone and everyone away from this private world of yours because that place was just for you two. It wasn't just how you spoke that changed; it was both of your whole demeanors when you were together. There was something more with the way that you looked at each other, how in each glance there was there was a telepathic reminder of love for the other. Even with every caring touch exchanged – him caressing your cheek as he brushed your hair behind your ear, or you taking his hand and letting him lead you to the car – it was as if there were a new electricity in it all, and you reveled in the warmth it gave you._

He suggests that you and he go out to dinner to take your minds off of work for a while. You immediately accept and grab your jacket before you head out.

The dinner is reminiscent of your first date, but the initial awkwardness is gone, unsure and nervous smiles replaced by knowing, excited grins now that you've decided to embark on a journey together that will last for the rest of your lives.

You talk about what you have in mind for the wedding, and you both agree that it shouldn't be extravagant, but simple and charming. This discussion naturally turns into one about when the event should take place, and this being something that you want to follow through with quickly, you settle on a date two months from now. The timing may be a little tight, you realize, especially with unpredictability of your jobs, but you'll keep the plans simple so that in the event that the date will have to be changed, it can be done rather painlessly.

Your talk of wedding plans continues until you reach home and Vaughn remarks that he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress. But, he says, until then, he'll settle for no clothes on you at all. And so, another night of passion ensues.

Blink.

You finally decide to announce your engagement, and figure it's best to start with your father. He's the only real family that you have left, but remembering what he put your first fiancé through, you think it's best to get through with telling him as quickly and smoothly as possible.

But you aren't Danny. You know how to handle business (even a wedding, when it comes to dealing Jack Bristow, is business) when it comes to your father, so you just approach him as you would for anything.

_After pulling your father aside from work for a few minutes, not attempting to put up any fronts, you just say what you have to say in a straightforward manner._

"_Dad, Vaughn and I are engaged."_

_You look at him expectantly, although you're not sure what to expect from him._

_He looks at you for a moment, then in an emotionless voice he says, "Congratulations." You give him some credit though, because he manages to smile afterwards._

_Waiting for a moment, but getting nothing more out of him, you prompt, "The wedding's in September… Would you like a formal invitation?"_

"_Yes, that'll be fine. Will you need any help financially with it?"_

_You shake your head. "No, it's not going to be anything big. Vaughn and I can take care of it."_

_He nods. "Yes… well, if you change your mind…"_

_A junior agent needing him to overlook a file takes your father's attention away from you, and you almost cringe as you imagine him walking you down the aisle. Yes, that will definitely take some work._

Blink.

You're busier at work than you would have hoped, with everything you have to do outside of the office. While Sloane's and your mother's activities have seemed to cease, the Covenant have taken up their stead with multiple counts of murder and robbery, all related to obtaining pages from another of Rambaldi's ancient texts, The Renaissance.

In the briefing, you figure your job now is to find out what you can relating to the new Rambaldi enigma, but Kendall surprises you when he displays on the monitor a sketch of a pentagonal container, shown at different angles, with a hatch on top, and a shutter-like opening on one of the sides, the circular shutter being in the center of Rambaldi's signature eye. Kendall goes on to explain that this artifact is Rambaldi's Cube, and that The Renaissance is basically the instruction manual for this artifact.

You immediately question where all this information is coming from, but Kendall simply states that you don't have the clearance to know. Before any other questions can be asked, he continues with more information seemingly coming from out of the blue. He says that the vault to The Cube needs twelve keys to open. Then he puts a picture of a man in his sixties on the screen and says that he is Andrian Lazarey, a former Russian diplomat who retired from his work in order to devote all of his time to the study of Rambaldi. From a surveillance operation on Lazarey, it's known that he is in possession of eleven of the keys needed to open the vault. Your job is to find the last key and persuade Lazarey to help you find The Cube.

Kendall then hands everyone in the briefing room a file with all known information on the keys to the vault. You're even more suspicious of Kendall now, but knowing you won't get your questions answered by him, you say nothing for now.

Blink.

You're exhausted after a week of plane rides to remote locations where you've found no sign of the last key. It's likely that you've been searching in places where other keys have already been found by Lazarey, but there was no way to tell which possible location corresponded to the last key.

The thing keeping you sane through all of this is your wedding coming up in a month and a half, even if you haven't had the chance to really get into the planning of it. But at the moment, any relief from work you can get, you'll take.

And did relief ever come – strangely enough, in the form of a plainly marked package. When you open it, you can't believe what's inside.

It's the key. And along with it was a note included… addressed to you. Your eyes widen as you look at your name printed neatly on the envelope, and then cautiously open it. It those three damn words again, their meaning no clearer to you than when you first heard them. You don't need forensics' analysis to tell you that Irina's fingerprints are on the paper. You already know that it was your mother who had given you this key. Truth takes time. She helped you again, wanting nothing in return… But what she didn't know, what you didn't know at that time was what Rambaldi's message to Sloane was.

Thirty years of work resulted in the production of a single sheet of paper, on it, a printed portrait of Sark, and the words, _The Disloyal One's blood is the key. The Chosen One will show the way. She will bear this man's child, and the beginning will come again._

Your mother's help would be your downfall.

_TBC_


End file.
